


239. Cigarette ashes on motel floors

by tveckling



Series: Dare to Write challenge [5]
Category: Romeo And Juliet - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-06
Updated: 2016-08-06
Packaged: 2018-07-29 17:56:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7693927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tveckling/pseuds/tveckling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They meet as often as they can, in secret. No one can know. No one must know.</p>
            </blockquote>





	239. Cigarette ashes on motel floors

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ambrose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ambrose/gifts).



One thing that always seemed the same was the rooms. Even if they changed where to meet every time—from hotels that rented by the hour, to cheap hostels all over the city, to motels where uninterested clerks didn't even look at their faces—the rooms all looked the same. The worn bed, the bathroom that had needed to be renovated for years, paintings of landscapes or people or items that managed to somehow look exactly the same; sometimes there were a couple of chairs around a small table, but if one actually used them the ache would stay for days. Everything was clean at least, that was the bare minimum Tybalt accepted.

It was Mercutio's night, and he had chosen a motel an hour outside of the city, a good while from any major roads. The place had been hard to find and they were the only guests, but the clerk hadn't even looked up when Mercutio came in, had barely glanced at him when he paid, and she hadn't asked for a name. It was enough to leave Mercutio smiling as he met Tybalt outside.

Since it was Mercutio's turn he was the one to bring food and drinks. Tybalt glared darkly at the box of noodles as he watched Mercutio grab it from his car. He had no objections to the beer and the soda bottles, though, and easily bent down to pick up the two bags they were in.

"You are so predictable when it comes to food," Tybalt muttered as he kicked the door closed behind him. He kept talking as he walked to put down the drinks at the small table in the northwest corner of the room. "One day you will have to learn how to cook proper food, even if I have to lock you in a kitchen and bar the windows so you can't escape. Do you ever see me bring fast food with me? No, I never have and I never will. It's important to always consider what you eat, because we are all built up of the things we put in our mouths. Even if you go to the gym several hours a day it won't do much good if you don't keep a healthy diet. This _garbage_ that you insist on-"

"Tybalt, do shut up," Mercutio said sweetly behind Tybalt's shoulder.

When Tybalt turned with a glare, mouth still open, Mercutio reached out and pulled him into a kiss. Immediately the tension left him and with a small smile Tybalt closed his eyes and returned the kiss with fervor, embracing Mercutio and holding him close. Mercutio grinned and ran his fingers through Tybalt's hair. Without pausing, with hands roaming bodies, with their lips separating only to quickly remove shirts, they moved towards the bed, leaving their clothes behind.

They didn't waste any time, desperation born of hunger driving every movement as they thrust against each other, trading kisses and whispers and moans. As the pressure in them both grew, so did the noises they made—uncaring, free, unhindered, in a way they could never afford to be anywhere else. There wasn't anyone else around, no one could hear them, and even if there would have been no one knew them.

Afterwards they lied on the bed, Tybalt languidly tracing patterns into Mercutio's skin and listening as Mercutio complained about his uncle in between mouthful of smoke. Tybalt had never fallen into the habit of smoking, but Mercutio rarely went anywhere without a pack of cigarettes. It had simply become an additional taste in their kisses.

"—but when I said I didn't want anything with the business he just looked at me with that face, that face he gets when he thinks I'm being immature and unreasonable, and I could practically hear him start the whole tired tirade, you know, the 'you will know better when you have grown up,'" Mercutio said in a deep voice, turning towards Tybalt with an exaggeratedly serious face.

Tybalt chuckled and rubbed his hand over Mercutio's face, making Mercutio laugh. "You are immature and unreasonable though, we all know that," he said and pulled back his hand when Mercutio tried to bite him.

"True, true. But just because I am flippant about whatever life tries to throw at me doesn't mean I will let her screw me over however she wants to. I decided a long time ago to have no part in that life, and their expectations doesn't faze me. They have Valentine, and if need be there's Paris as well. They're both smarter than me, much better at the whole political and strategic part, not to mention better with long-term planning. Who in their right mind would hold me up next to either of them and decide that, yeah, Mercutio must take over. They're the ones missing sense and logic, not me! There's no need to involve me, absolutely no reason. They can keep the inheritance; what do I care for their money? I'd happily leave it all behind, so why can't they just leave me alone?"

Mercutio didn't protest when Tybalt pulled him to his chest and hugged him, he only kept talking. It wasn't every meeting that he talked about his family, but it had happened enough times that Tybalt knew Mercutio would only talk himself into a black mood of self-deprecation and meaninglessness. The important thing was to stop him before he got too far, and so Tybalt pressed light kisses to Mercutio's face.

At first Mercutio’s only reaction was to sigh and avert his face, his eyes clouded over in a way that made Tybalt’s chest ache, but when Tybalt pressed his nose into the ear closest to him Mercutio snorted. He quickly put out the cigarette into the ashtray on the bedside table before an accident could occur, then turned to Tybalt with a spark in his eyes. The play-fight that ensued was much more welcome, especially with Mercutio laughing breathlessly as Tybalt finally managed to pin him down against the rumpled sheets. Tybalt smirked down at his partner and got up from the bed.

"Do you suppose it's time for that garbage you call food? I won't even complain about the taste if you can get it ready in five minutes." As if to corroborate with his words Tybalt's stomach gurgled, long and loudly. Tybalt raised his eyebrows and gestured towards his front. "See? I need food."

Mercutio snickered and pulled himself out of bed. "If your highness needs food then your humble servant shall prepare it immediately."

Tybalt smiled languidly and watched Mercutio pass by, admiring the sight. It managed to distract him from his hunger well enough, and while they waited for the water to boil he made sure to distract Mercutio as well. It resulted in getting food quite a bit later than planned, but it was worth it.

They chatted happily while they ate, Mercutio sitting on one of the chairs while Tybalt sat on the edge of the bed. He had tried sitting in the other chair, but the fabric had itched against his bare skin; how Mercutio could stand it was beyond his comprehension. The slimy and tasteless mess that Mercutio insisted on calling food didn't do much to raise his mood, but the conversation more than made up for it. The sharpness Mercutio's tongue was so often used with had been turned soft, and the sarcasm only appeared when he mocked people both of them agreed deserved it. Instead of babbling non-stop as he was wont to he encouraged Tybalt to talk, asking about Juliet and letting Tybalt rant with nothing but a smile—she had begun acting strangely lately, and he had heard servants giggle about how nice it was to see the girl in love. But it couldn't be, Juliet couldn't be in love! She was so young, so innocent; she could be taken advantage of so easily. Tybalt would die rather than let that happen, but he couldn't actually do anything if he didn't even know who had started to corrupt her!

After all the time they had spent together Tybalt could rant freely, knowing that Mercutio wouldn't tease him.

When their stomachs were full and their conversational urges satisfied Mercutio walked over to Tybalt, smiling with hooded eyes as he picked the empty box from Tybalt's hands and threw it into the trashcan in the corner with effortless accuracy that no longer surprised Tybalt. Tybalt smiled back and opened his arms wide to welcome Mercutio down into the bed. This time their coupling was far less hurried, and the sky was completely dark once they had satisfied each other.

Tybalt pulled a spent Mercutio into his arms and played idly with his hair while Mercutio breathed against his neck. It was getting long, he noticed, and it did surprise him that Mercutio had let it grow as much as it had. Next time they met he would most likely have cut it back to its normal size, but for now Tybalt let the soft strands run between his fingers. Mercutio's breathing had turned slow and deep, and when Tybalt tried softly saying his name he didn't get a response. Somehow Tybalt was far from tired, so instead of joining his partner in sleeping he continued the comforting petting.

Softly—more like breathing out the words—he talked to Mercutio, telling him all about what he still couldn't bring himself to say when they were both awake, until finally he too fell asleep.

When they both woke the next morning they ate a box of noodles each, the silence hanging over their heads. They could only be together a few more hours before they had to go back to their lives—where the other's name was a curse, where they pretended they only smiled at the prospect of seeing the other covered in blood, where they hurled insult after insult at each other—and neither wanted to let go of the peace they felt in the anonymous motel. It wasn't something they could avoid, however, which they both were aware of. They had duties, friends, _family_ that they had to return to.

As they reached for each other the desperation in them was stronger than it had been the earlier evening, and they tumbled around on the bed as though there was nothing waiting for them outside of the room.

Tybalt left Mercutio in the bed—smoking a cigarette whilst staring at empty space—as he walked into the shower. Normally he preferred showers that he only jumped in and out of, but for once he let himself stay in the warm water and pretend that Mercutio's presence in the neighboring room wasn't a secret. He would finish his shower, walk out and kiss Mercutio, then after Mercutio had taken a shower as well they would go out, maybe eat at one of the cafés Mercutio always talked about, and no one would spare a glance for the two of them sitting at a table together, talking and laughing. Holding hands. Kissing.

A loud cursing brought him out of his fantasies, and Tybalt rushed out of the bathroom with a towel hastily wrapped around his waist. Mercutio was next to the bed, stomping at something while hissing in pain. There was a little bit of smoke rising from beneath his foot, and Tybalt rushed forward to push him away. As he suspected it was a crumbled cigarette, still giving off smoke, and Tybalt pulled off the now-wet towel to place it over the item. While Mercutio stood silently next to him he patted the towel, then lifted it to make sure the danger was gone. He had heard of too many deaths involving fires caused by cigarettes, and he had no wish to be involved in one.

There wasn't any need to worry, however, and Tybalt closed his eyes with a sigh. "What did you do? Doze off and drop the thing?"

"Yeah." Mercutio's voice was tight, and Tybalt opened his eyes again.

"Your foot. Did you really have to stomp on it with your bare foot?" Tybalt sighed again and motioned for Mercutio to come closer. "Come here, I'll have a look, see how bad it is."

Mercutio pursed his lips and walked past Tybalt instead, heading towards the bathroom while visibly trying to keep his limping to a minimum. "I'm fine. You can get dressed and leave, it's better that way. Can't be seen together, after all," he said and disappeared through the door before Tybalt had a chance to say something in reply.

He didn't want to leave. Or, if they were going to leave, he wanted to leave together. He wanted to stop the hiding and lying, and he wanted Mercutio to stop being so bitter about it, because he hated it too.

Instead he did as Mercutio had said, got dressed and walked out the door. There was no hesitation as he got into his car and drove out of the parking lot, beginning the journey back to Verona. Soon Mercutio would be finished and get rid of everything that they had brought with them, and after a wash all traces that they had been there would be gone. Everything but the cigarette ashes on the floor.


End file.
